I Thought I Saw Your Face Today
by all the glitters
Summary: Five moments in Anna's life: one with Adam, one with Ben, one with Django, one with Logan and another with Scott. Fic was not written chronologically. Anna revisits memories of what could have been and what it is now. Post-series. One-shot.


I Thought I Saw Your Face Today

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Author's Note: Just a small idea that popped into my head today - a one-shot. I was thinking about the many ways in which Anna could have ended up, but in this story, she ended up with the one I believe would one day be perfect for her. This is a collection of drabbles that are almost connected to give you a picture of what her life would be like, post-series. Although the concluding part is about the character I envision her to be with, each part features a different male character: Adam, Ben, Django, Logan and Scott, exploring their relationships with Anna. Please read and hopefully, enjoy, even if you might not like the final pairing. The title of this fic and the alluded lyrics are from a lovely song by _She & Him_.

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_I thought I saw your face today  
but I just turned my face away  
Your face against the trees  
but I just see the memories_

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_Cynthia enveloped her friend into a hug, releasing Anna at least twenty seconds later. Standing behind her was Scott, Anna soon realized. Her long-time adolescent crush._

_He gave a small wave, a polite nod towards her. He looked older, his built larger and his eyes darker. Deciphering his expression and the almost regretful look written across his face – all the "what-ifs" and "what-nots" apparent, she glanced at her leather watch. She was forced to look away for Cyn was pulling her hand, saying, "Let's go, c'mon on."_

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_She had wanted to stay, but she didn't. These back and forth motions were much too tiring for her to go through again. Standing on his doorstep, her back to his house, she felt a tear fall onto her cheek._

_"Come back, Anna." A gush of wind was chilly against her skin._

_Spinning on the balls of her feet, she found herself facing him. His handsome features looked haggard, exhausted, after hours of screaming and fighting. "I'm sorry," Ben mumbled, his arm reaching to touch her. To see the mess they had descended into, it had not taken an outsider – a third party, if you may. It was merely the fact that they both stopped trying. Distance was not the problem. The problem was _them_, she was convinced. After all, how many times did she have to do this in order to realize that it wasn't right?_

_"You're freezing!" he commented, his eyes filled with concern. He slipped off his own college sweatshirt and handed it to her._

_She grabbed the memento and threw it over her limp body. Thinking back, she considered herself to be weak and helpless for doing so, but she could not decide for herself whether walking away was a sentiment to that._

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_"I told her all about you and she probably loves you more than she loves me!" Logan teased, his fingers intertwined with hers. He put down the phone. "Or my sister, for that matter."_

_"I bet all mothers love you," he continued, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was distracted, focused on a lanky teenager who was playing basketball the park outside his house. "You seem like the type." She nodded, her expression dreamlike as she watched the boy passing to his friend._

_He said her name, his intonation hinting at a question. Anna Percy looked at him, extracting her from his grip as she gave him an empty smile. "I'm tired – that's all."_

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_As the sweet sounds of a piano began to fill the room, she smiled, nostalgia washing over her like a fine piece of silk. She knew nothing substantial about music, but over time, she had learnt to appreciate it. Possibly because, as much as she loathed to admit, her roommate at Yale would play the violin every Sunday morning and she became accustomed to it. Or maybe it was because Anna often fell asleep to the habitual crash of the cymbals, courtesy of another girl in her dorm._

_The music felt warm, staccato and tender, weightless like a fairy skipping on a thin sheet of water. She grabbed her mug, breathing in the scent of freshly brewed coffee. She inadvertently knocked over the CD Django had just sent to her today, despite that she had her own copy in her shelves. She had bought it one afternoon in Soho last month when she visited her grandparents in New York, eager to get away from the suffocating affection she was often bestowed upon by her relatives. Picking it up to see the messy scribble of his autograph, she looked at the track listings._

_She knew, of course—she had first heard the song the day he had invited her to his studio, her name was the title of the composition._

-

"Wow," he pronounced, scratching the back of his ear, where she knew a tiny little tattoo had been etched. "Anna Percy, big-shot screenwriter." Looking at the elegant figure before him, he saw what he had been missing for seemingly the longest of time: a woman who made him laugh, who was more intelligent than anyone else he knew….

"What brings you here?" was the response he elicited. Her tone seemed to suggest that she was amused, but he could tell that she was nervous by the way she fidgeted with her turquoise cocktail dress. "Aren't you supposed to be off studying in Michigan or playing basketball with your friends?"

"Yeah, my parents' twenty-fifth anniversary is this weekend and I wanted to surprise my girlfriend by coming here," he admitted with a grin. "What about you? I thought you were off at Yale, majoring in Journalism or something."

She did not bother responding – he knew the answer. She eyed him curiously. "Your girlfriend, however, _must _be around here somewhere."

"Tell me about the movie," he muttered, ignoring her words. Looking around the Chinese Theater, he recognized many faces: Sam Sharpe's, in particular. Noisy and crowded, it was the premiere of _The Big Palm_, which was the first film she had penned.

She chuckled. "I told you before."

"I want to hear it again," he said, his mien relaxed and easygoing, much like the down-to-earth guy she knew he was. "You sound better than the IMDB webpage." Tapping his red Converses on the ground, she could not help but smile as she watched a smirk play along his lips. She had to admit, after all this time, he still looked really _good_, especially in a fitted, black suit.

"I sure hope so." She raised a quirked eyebrow, before launching into a synopsis of her movie. "The protagonist lived in New York—"

"You know what, actually?" he interrupted, closing the distance between them with a long stride. Gently pressing his hands onto her waist, he studied her graceful movements as she pressed her fingers along his jaw. "I haven't seen you months…"

"Let's just skip to this part then," she mumbled, letting him pull her into his arms. She did not even notice the flashes of the cameras, the reporters making a beeline for them. She only felt some sort security, a concept that she never associated with anyone else but him. She grazed his lips with hers. Her gestures were no longer cautious as she was eager to learn that the trust that she had always found in him now led to affection and... love. "What do you think, Mr. Adam Flood?"

_-_

_Love is just a piece of time  
in the world  
in the world  
And I couldn't help but fall in love again  
_

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End.

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Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed that. I know it's rare to find fics with a focus on Anna and Adam, but I thought that they deserved this. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome and appreciated.


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